Crash Into Strength
by JPsmiles
Summary: A plane crash leads to misunderstandings and greater understandings for the team.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Crash Into Strength

Summary: A plane crash leads to misunderstandings and greater understandings for the team.

Warnings: Descriptions of character injury

Note: Lia sent me the story idea (thanks Lia!) with the basic guidelines and I took it from there. It was a lot of fun to write this way!

"Well that was a little too close for comfort if you ask me," Face whined standing behind Hannibal and Murdock who were seated in the cockpit.

"Yeah Colonel, I thought you said that this mission was going to be a piece of cake," Murdock added as he flipped a few switches on the control panel.

"Any time Hannibal uses the term "piece of cake" we almost wind up getting killed." Face continued.

"I admit it was a bit hairy there for a while,' Hannibal agreed, "but all's well that ends well, right?" He shot Face one of his trademark "I love it when a plan comes together" grins.

"A _bit_ hairy?" Face exclaimed. "I almost get blown to smithereens and he calls it 'a bit hairy'!

"But you didn't...and that's what counts." Hannibal pulled out a cigar and held it out for Face to light.

Face shrugged his shoulders, "Sorry, I must have dropped my lighter when I was _DIVING OFF OF THAT EXPLODING TOWER!"_

"Don't be so dramatic Facey...it didn't explode until seconds _after_ you hit the ground." Murdock teased.

Face sighed in exasperation. "I give up!"

They were all exhausted and in foul spirits after the last couple of days spent in Brazil. It was supposed to be a simple "get in and get out" mission to retrieve some stolen artifacts for their museum curator client. This simple mission turned into 48-hours of pure chaos which included three gun battles, a bunch of fist fights and one rather long car chase. To make matters worse, the only car Face could scrounge up had previously been occupied by a chicken farmer. Four sweaty men, a small vehicle, and a ton of feathers…you have a recipe for disaster!

And then there was B.A. they had to contend with. He was none too thrilled to wake up in Brazil after the flight down. Hannibal had spiked his burger. Actually, he had put the drugs into Face's assuming that B.A. would refuse to eat his own. There was one very scary moment in which B.A. almost forced Face to take a bite of the tainted burger. It takes a whole lot to knock a man of B.A.'s size out; one bite could have taken the smaller man out of commission for hours! Luckily, Murdock was able to distract the big guy long enough for Face to make the switch...crisis averted.

They hadn't had time for such elaborate schemes on the way back to the plane, so they had to settle for Hannibal jabbing a syringe into B.A.'s massive arm while he wasn't looking. As usual, he fell onto the car horn and it took all three men to pull him off. In the five years they had been on the run, B.A. had gained a whole lot of muscle and a considerable amount of gold as well. Now he slept peacefully in the back of the plane. He was tied up for the safety of himself, but more for the safety of the others.

"Uh-oh," Murdock said out of the blue. He continued to look at the controls in front of him but said no more.

"You care to elaborate on that 'uh-oh', Captain?' Hannibal questioned.

"No, 'uh-oh' just about covers it." he replied, starting to fidget with the switches feverishly.

"Murdock, please tell me that 'uh-oh' means that you forgot to use the restroom before we left?" Face asked hopefully.

"No...'uh-oh' means we're gonna crash. But now that you mention it..." His voice trailed off as he started pulling up on the controls with all his might.

"Face, go strap yourself in," Hannibal directed. He watched as Face scrambled into a seat slightly behind and to the side of B.A., and then turned his attention back to the front.

Face could see that B.A. was starting to come around by the way his head was moving side to side. "Great...the sleeping giant would have to wake now," he mumbled.

"I'm on a plane! I'm on a plane!" B.A. ranted as he realized where he was. "One of you suckers better untie me!"

Face was torn. Should he undo B.A.'s restraints and risk being killed by the muscle bound man? Or should he leave him be until after the crash, in which he might be killed anyway?

'What if we crash and nobody is able to free B.A.? He would be stuck,' Face thought. 'I can't leave him like that!'

Face knew he had to move fast as he could feel the plane slanting downward, but he figured he should have enough time. He unfastened his seatbelt and stepped out into the aisle, holding onto a seat on each side to keep himself from falling. He began to step forward when they seemed to take a sudden nosedive. He fell forward, his rib cage catching the arm of one of the seats. Before he had a chance to react, the plane made impact with the ground. The last thing Face remembered was flying through the air and cracking his head against the wall. Then everything went black.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Crash Into Strength

Summary: A plane crash leads to misunderstandings and greater understandings for the team.

Warnings: Descriptions of character injury

Note: Lia sent me the story idea (thanks Lia!) with the basic guidelines and I took it from there. It was a lot of fun to write this way!

Chapter 2

Hannibal and Murdock sat in stunned silence trying to process what had just happened.

Finally Hannibal looked at Murdock and asked, "You okay?"

"Not since 1968," Murdock joked weakly. "I think I busted my wrist. How 'bout you...you okay?"

"A few bruised ribs," Hannibal grimaced running his hands up and down his waist. "But nothing broken."

"Fool crashed the plane!" B.A. started yelling. "Fool crashed the plane!"

"From the sound of B.A., I'd say they're okay back there," Hannibal stated. "Hey B.A., put a lid on it would ya? Face, undo the man!" He yelled back, his injured ribs preventing him from turning around.

Face could hear people yelling, but it sounded far away and muted. His head felt heavy and there was a painful throbbing sensation working in rhythm with his pulse. He opened his eyes and tried to figure out where he was and why he hurt so badly. He could see that he was on a plane, but had no recollection of how he got there. He turned his head slightly and saw a livid looking B.A. struggling to get out of his restraints. Well, he actually saw a few B.A.'s among a myriad of dancing spots.

Face blinked his eyes in an effort to clear his vision and decided to try and sit up. He propped himself up on his elbows and attempted to lean forward when the pain stopped him dead in his tracks. He gasped, wrapping his arms around his waist. Face panted, trying to slow his breathing. Once the pain had dissipated a bit, he rolled onto his side, grabbed onto a seat and pulled himself up.

"You better undo me…or else!" B.A.'s threat fell upon deaf ears. Face could hear muffled sound, but was unable to understand what he was saying. The cabin was spinning around him; he felt as if the ground were moving beneath his feet. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead as he started to amble around aimlessly trying to get his bearings.

B.A. was still screaming threats at the men when Hannibal and Murdock emerged from the cockpit a few minutes later. "For crying out loud, Face! Stop wandering around and untie B.A. already!"

Face struggled to hear what the colonel was saying to him. He was able to make out most of the words, but it sounded like he was on a phone with bad reception. He tried to respond, but his brain and mouth didn't seem to be connected. Before he had an opportunity to try again, the two men exited the plane.

Confused and disoriented, Face walked slowly toward B.A. He could tell that they had been in a plane crash, but everything else was fuzzy. The con-man was also in a considerable amount of discomfort. It felt as if he had been hit by a truck. But it wasn't a truck that hit him, it was a plane. Or rather, it was he who had hit the plane.

By the time Face reached B.A.'s side he was working on auto pilot. He had a pounding headache, but at least the pain in his abdomen had lessened to a dull ache. His years as a soldier had taught him to push-away his pain and focus on the task at hand. He sat down and got to work on the ropes securing B.A.'s jewel encrusted hands. He fumbled with the knots willing his fingers to cooperate.

B.A. had had enough. He had been drugged, tied up, and forced on a plane…a plane crashed by that fool Murdock. And now Faceman was taking his sweet old time in setting him free. Even more infuriating was that Face sat there expressionless and hadn't said a word since the crash. 'He's messin' with me,' B.A. thought. 'He's movin' real slow on purpose…as if he don't care."

Face was looking intently at the ropes in his hands trying to make his double vision go away. Unfortunately, the more he stared, the more his head hurt. And the more his head hurt the dizzier he became. He had only managed to loosen one of the bonds before becoming extremely lightheaded. Face leaned back into the seat next to B.A. and tried to slow his breathing.

B.A. wiggled his hands free and looked over at Face who still had that impassive appearance. "What is wrong with you, man?" he questioned. "If you're trying to piss me off sucker, it's working!"

Face tried to shake his head 'no', but the slight movement made his stomach churn and he thought he might be sick. He had no choice but to look straight ahead and try to breathe through the nausea. Unfortunately, his lack of response only infuriated B.A. more.

"Nobody ignores B.A. Baracus!" he snarled hauling back and unleashing his pent up rage with his fist. Face's eyes bulged as B.A.'s massive fist connected with his already abused torso. B.A. got up and exited the plane leaving his friend doubled over and groaning in agony. Unable to catch his breath, he began gasping for air. He lowered himself to the floor on hands and knees where he promptly emptied the contents of his stomach.


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Crash Into Strength

Summary: A plane crash leads to misunderstandings and greater understandings for the team.

Warnings: Descriptions of character injury

Note: Lia sent me the story idea (thanks Lia!) with the basic guidelines and I took it from there. It was a lot of fun to write this way!

Chapter 3

"Toto, I have a feeling we're not is Kansas anymore." Murdock said while studying the high density of trees before him. "I always wanted to say that."

Hannibal rolled his eyes. "Well Dorothy, do you have any idea of where we might be?"

"My best guess would be Northern Mexico, based upon our location before the plane decided to misbehave."

Hannibal sighed. There was no telling how far away they were from civilization and it would be getting dark in a couple of hours. "Okay, looks like we'll have to set up camp here for the night."

Murdock nodded his head in agreement. His wrist was killing him. All he wanted to do was take a couple of aspirin and one heck of a long nap. The nap would have to wait, he realized as B.A. came stomping over muttering expletives under his breath. Murdock shot him an exasperated look.

"And just why are you so grumpy? You escaped the crash without even a scratch!"

"Just ignore him," Hannibal smiled. "B.A.'s always a little cranky after a plane crash."

B.A. snarled. "It ain't funny Hannibal!" He pointed over at Murdock, "It's bad enough that this fool couldn't keep us in the air, but then that other fool Face wouldn't untie me. He just sat there!"

"Don't take it personal Sergeant, he wasn't listening to me either," Hannibal sympathized. "I think he's still pouting about that close call he had in Brazil."

"Well, if he don't get his act together, I'll really give him something to pout about!"

Murdock tried to diffuse the situation. "Just calm down, big guy. Between my wrist and Hannibal's ribs, we're going to need the Faceman in one piece." Face was his best friend; he didn't want to see him survive a plane crash just to be beaten to a pulp by B.A.

"Here's the plan. Murdock and I will pack any supplies we may need from the plane, while you set up camp for the night." Hannibal paused and looked over at the plane from which his Lieutenant had yet to emerge, "and, since Face doesn't seem to want anything to do with us at the moment, he can be in charge of gathering wood for a fire."

The thought of Face having to get his hands dirty gathering wood seemed to appease B.A. for the moment and he set off to work. They could hear him muttering about how he was "gonna make them pay".

Hannibal shook his head and said, "If we had a dollar for every time those words have come out of B.A.'s mouth, we wouldn't be in this mess to begin with. We would have had enough money to retire and hide from the government in paradise."

"What? And miss out on all this fun?" Murdock put his good arm around the colonel and said, "C'mon, let's get to work."

By the time Face recovered enough from B.A.'s blow, he had decided that he was just going to follow orders and stay away from the others as much as possible. He didn't know why they were so angry at him, and at this point he was too miserable to care. Face was exiting the plane as Hannibal was walking stiffly toward it. One small consolation was that his hearing had cleared up considerably, and he was able to hear Hannibal's orders without a problem.

"Nice of you to join us, Lieutenant," Hannibal said acerbically. "We're going to need some firewood in case the temperature drops tonight. I suggest you get moving right now." Face fought back his desire to object; he was in no shape to be playing Boy Scout. But, the Hannibal seemed heated enough at the moment, and the last thing he wanted to do was add fuel to the fire.

Face set off into trees wondering how he was going to get the wood back to the camp, let alone himself. The ache in his gut was back with a vengeance, undoubtedly worsened by B.A.'s fist. He would only manage to walk a few feet before he would have to stop and catch his breath. Sweat was dripping into his eyes clouding his already compromised vision. "C'mon Peck," he said aloud as he rested against a tree, "you've been hurt worse…just suck it up and keep moving."

Face spotted what appeared to be a pile of fallen branches in the near distance. He pushed himself away from the tree and headed in that direction. He was so focused on reaching his destination that he didn't notice the large stone in his path until it was too late. His stomach dropped as the side of his foot came down on the rock and he stumbled forward. Unable to right himself, he crashed to the ground, his right thigh being sliced by a jagged rock he landed on.

Face lay on the ground cursing his bad luck. "Great. Just freakin' fantastic," he groaned. Blood was seeping through his pant leg at an alarming rate. He knew that if he didn't slow the bleeding he wouldn't stand a chance. He started to unbutton his shirt, which proved to be more difficult than expected. He gingerly forced himself to a sitting position and shrugged the shirt off his back, wincing at the pain shooting through his ribs. He scooted himself back a couple of feet until he was leaning against a tree for support. He wrapped the fabric around his leg as tightly as possible and used the sleeves to tie a knot.

Face shut his eyes; he was so incredibly tired. He said a silent prayer that he and the team would get out of this mess before letting the blackness overtake him yet again.


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Crash Into Strength

Summary: A plane crash leads to misunderstandings and greater understandings for the team.

Warnings: Descriptions of character injury

Note: Lia sent me the story idea (thanks Lia!) with the basic guidelines and I took it from there. It was a lot of fun to write this way!

Chapter 4

"Did Faceman go all the way back to Brazil to get that wood?" B.A. scoffed, as he checked the batteries on their emergency lanterns.

Hannibal sat on a tree stump, cigar in mouth, and hands busy checking the state of their weapon and ammunition supply. If there was one thing he had learned since being on the run, is that there was no such thing as being too prepared. He could see Murdock pacing back and forth, without doubt worrying about Face.

"Murdock, you really should be resting," he said. "I'm sure Face is fine."

"I don't know Colonel," Murdock said adjusting his cap with his good arm, "I have a bad feeling that something's not right."

"Yeah, and that something is your brain!" B.A. quipped. "Now why don't you sit down before you fall down, fool."

Murdock stood still for a moment trying to figure out his next move. "I'm going to go look for him." He looked over at Hannibal as if waiting for approval.

Hannibal nodded his head but said, "If that's what you want to do, go ahead. But tell Lieutenant Peck to high-tail it back here…it'll be dark within the hour."

Murdock saluted Hannibal and then did an about face into the trees. Hannibal couldn't help but grin. He knew Murdock was mocking him for referring to Face as "Lieutenant Peck". Using such formalities was his way of informing his team that he was reaching the end of his rope. And right now, Face was hanging onto that rope by a thread!

"Here Facey, Facey Facey! Murdock called out scanning the foliage to his right and left as he went.

"Here Facey, Facey, Fa…oh no!" He gasped as he spotted the blonde, shirtless man slumped against a tree, his head drooped to one side. He could feel his heart beating faster as he approached his friend and saw the blood stained shirt tied around his leg. He dropped to his knees and put his fingers to Face's neck feeling for a pulse. He let out the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding when he felt the faint pounding under his finger tips.

"Hang in there, pal." He encouraged, unsure if Face could hear him or not. "I'm going to go get some help." Murdock tucked his bad arm against his side and ran back to camp as fast as his legs would carry him. By the time he reached Hannibal and B.A. he was so winded that he could barely speak.

"Face…Face…is hurt…looks bad." He said breathlessly. Both Hannibal and B.A. sat for a moment in shocked silence before the meaning of Murdock's words hit them and they sprung into action.

"Murdock, grab the first aid kit," Hannibal directed. "B.A., it's getting dark, grab a couple of those lanterns." Any anger from the past few days was forgotten as they followed Murdock into the woods and toward their injured teammate.

The round trip into the woods took just under an hour. As far as the trio could tell based upon Hannibal's quick exam, Face had sustained a few broken ribs in addition to the deep thigh laceration. After replacing the shirt wrapped around Face's leg with a fresh bandage, they decided that the best thing to do would be to get back to the camp they had set up. With Hannibal and Murdock each holding a lantern to light the way, B.A. scooped Face up in his arms. Face's head rested against the muscular man's chest and his arms fell limply to the sides.

When they reached their campsite, B.A. gently placed Face down on a blanket. He clasped his hands together and lifted his arms overhead to stretch out his fatigued muscles.

"Damn Hannibal," B.A. said as he rolled his shoulders backward in circular motions. "Faceman didn't stir once."

Hannibal ran a gloved hand over his chin as he was crouched down next to his second in command. "I know…and that's what has me worried."

Murdock had gone back to pacing again. "What's the plan now, Colonel? How're we going to get Face out of here?" Looking over at B.A. still trying to work out the kinks, he added, "B.A. can't carry him the whole way."

B.A. stood still and was deadly serious when he said, "Can if I have to."

Hannibal felt his heart swell with pride. He had no doubt his sergeant _would_ carry Face if need be, but he had another idea. "I think what we need is a travois."

"A trav-what?" B.A. and Murdock asked simultaneously. Hannibal grinned as the two looked at each other; B.A. appalled that they had shared the same thought, and Murdock elated by it.

"Travois," Hannibal repeated. "It's like a stretcher that you drag on the ground. The Native Americans used to use them to transport goods…except a dog or horse would do the pulling."

"Billy would be happy to volunteer his services." Murdock put forward.

B.A. shot the pilot a frustrated look, "Shut up, fool…we ain't got time for your crazy jibber-jabber."

"Thanks for the offer, but Face may be a bit too heavy for a dog." Murdock nodded his understanding as Hannibal cleared his throat and looked at B.A. "And seeing that we don't exactly have a horse, we'll have to use the second best thing to do the pulling."

"No problem man." B.A. agreed. "I don't assume you have one of those tra…whatever-you-call-it handy?" Hannibal shook his head no and B.A. started looking around for some possible materials.

"Can I help? Can I, can I, can I?" Murdock begged.

"Can you help?" B.A. exclaimed. "You got a broken wrist, fool!"

"But I got one that still works! Please B.A.? Pretty please with milk on top!" Murdock pleaded.

"Milk on top?" Hannibal questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"B.A. likes milk," Murdock explained, as if it should make perfect sense.

'I know I'm gonna regret this,' B.A. thought. He could tell that Murdock was just trying to keep busy so he could take his mind off of Face for a while. He put his hand on Murdock's back and gently pushed him forward with a warning, "Okay, but don't get in my way or your wrist won't be the only thing that's broken."


	5. Chapter 5

Title: Crash Into Strength

Summary: A plane crash leads to misunderstandings and greater understandings for the team.

Warnings: Descriptions of character injury

Note: Lia sent me the story idea (thanks Lia!) with the basic guidelines and I took it from there. It was a lot of fun to write this way!

Chapter 5

"C'mon Lieutenant...open those eyes," Hannibal softly said. He pushed some stray hair out of the way and placed his palm on Face's forehead. He felt warm, but not excessively so. Hannibal couldn't tell if it was a slight fever or just the environment they were in. The humidity reminded him of the jungles in Nam; Face would always whine about the humidity...that and the bugs.

Sitting next to Face, Hannibal would have given his last cigar to hear one of those trademark whines right about now. He checked the bandage on his injured leg and was relieved that the bleeding had slowed down. Now if only the younger man would wake up. He didn't think Face had lost enough blood to account for him being out so long.

"C'mon kid...you're really starting to scare me," he confessed. He could hear B.A. and Murdock bickering in the distance. "If you don't wake up soon, Murdock is likely to drive B.A. crazy. They might have to share a room in the V.A."

Hannibal sighed at the lack of response and rested his back against one of the backpacks they had loaded up for the next day's journey. It was times like these that he started to feel his age. It wasn't that he was an old man yet, but plane crashes and being lost in the forest could sure make one feel that way. Where was "the jazz" when he needed it? When he was "on the jazz" he was like a little kid; he was invincible. But now his ribs hurt and he was exhausted; maybe if he just rested his eyes for a couple of minutes...

"Ha..Hannibal?" Face stuttered weakly, relieved that he had found his voice again. Hannibal lay next to him; eyes closed, arms crossed around his waist. Afraid that the colonel might be injured, he tapped him lightly on the arm and tried again.

"Hannibal?" Seeing the colonel's blue eyes open he asked, "you okay?"

"That's supposed to be my line!" Hannibal smiled widely and sat up slowly. "I'm fine...how're _you_ feeling, kid?"

Truthfully, Face hurt all over, but he didn't want to tell Hannibal that. Avoiding the question he asked, "What happened? How'd I get here?"

"We were in a plane crash, don't you remember?" Face nodded his head slightly as it all started to come back to him. "Murdock found you unconscious in the woods a few hours ago."

Face frowned as he looked down at his bandaged leg. "Oh yeah...I tripped and fell."

"You didn't answer my question yet, Lieutenant. I asked how you are feeling."

Face was about to reply when B.A. came running over. 'Saved by the gold,' he thought to himself. Murdock wasn't far behind.

"Hey Faceman! Glad to see you awake!" B.A. smiled.

"You had the angry mud sucker quite worried, Muchahcho!" Murdock joked.

B.A. rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and you was cool as a cucumber, right?" Murdock blushed and looked at the ground...he knew he had been a basket case.

Face started to laugh at his friends' antics, but was stopped in his tracks when pain shot through his midsection. He groaned, rolling onto his side and curing into a ball.

His three teammates knelt by Face's side, unsure of what to do.

Hannibal placed his hand on the small of Face's back for support.

Face was gasping, "Can't...breathe...hurts."

"You have some broken ribs...just try to relax." Hannibal waited for Face's body to calm, and then he helped him roll onto his back. "Now, for the last time, how are you feeling?"

"I'm okay."

"Face!" they admonished in unison.

"Okay...I've been better," he admitted with a wry smile.

"I'm still trying to figure out how you did so much damage from a fall," Hannibal prodded.

Face tried to sit up, but thought better of it as his ribs again protested; his head throbbing in agreement. He hurt in so many other places that he had almost forgotten about his head. He waited for the world to stop turning and decided that lying down might not be such a bad idea.

"The crash did the most harm," he started to explain. "The fall was just icing on the cake."

B.A. looked confused. "Whatcha' talkin' about man? You was okay after the crash..." B.A.'s voice trailed off as a light bulb went off in his head. It was all beginning to make sense now.

"I felt bad about you being left tied up. I unstrapped myself and was headed your way when we crashed. Cracked my head pretty good." Face stopped talking and closed his eyes as a wave of nausea hit him...darn head injuries. "Lucky for me I have a hard noggin," he quipped breathlessly.

Hannibal, B.A. and Murdock looked at each other, unsure of what to say. How did they not notice that something was wrong? Face was walking around when they saw him; he didn't appear hurt. But, then again, nobody had seen him directly after the crash; Hannibal and Murdock were in the cockpit and B.A. was tied up facing the other direction.

"Why didn't you say something, buddy?" Murdock asked.

"I couldn't."

"Why not, Face?" Hannibal inquired. "Why didn't you feel you could tell us?"

"No, it's not that," Face corrected. "I mean I really _couldn't_. Couldn't talk...or hear very well either for a bit."

B.A. looked distressed and felt even worse when Face looked at him and said, "Sorry B.A. I was trying my best…I was just too dizzy to undo those knots."

B.A. got up abruptly and walked away disgusted with himself. 'Man gets hurt tryin' to help me and I go and bust him up worse,' he thought.

Thinking that he had angered B.A., Face instinctively went to go after him, forgetting his physical condition. He got to a half-way standing position before the nausea was back with a vengeance. He felt Hannibal's arms around his shoulders keeping him from falling.

"Gonna be sick," he tried to warn Hannibal before making good on his word. Hannibal held onto the man as he did his business. Fire shot through Face's ribs with each round, but he couldn't seem to stop. 'God help me,' he thought. 'Where is it all coming from?' After what felt like an eternity, Face stopped heaving and Hannibal helped him back down onto the ground.

"Sorry," Face said, his voice barely a whisper.

"Don't apologize...just don't try to get up again, Lieutenant. And that's an order."

"Yes, sir. Permission to pass out, sir." Face slurred as he drifted off into blissful oblivion.

"Damn," Hannibal muttered, noticing the bright red patch forming on Face's bandaged thigh. "What am I gonna do with you, kid?" he asked as he pulled out the first aid kit and started to redress the wound.

Murdock had gone after B.A. as soon as Face had started to vomit. He knew how much Face hated to show weakness in front of others and he wanted to give him some privacy. Plus, he wanted to know why B.A. had left the way he did; it was very unlike him to run away from any situation. Murdock found him walking back and forth in front of the plane crash site.

"Now look who's pacing." Murdock called out to the visibly upset man. "What happened back there?

"I hit him, that's what happened. Faceman gets hurt tryin' to help me...and I go and hit him!" B.A. stopped walking and slammed his palm against the plane.

Murdock's mouth fell open. "_You did what_?" he asked wanting to be sure he had heard correctly. Sure, B.A. was always threatening them with bodily harm, but he had never acted on it...until now.

B.A. was leaning against the plane fiddling with the rings on his hand. "I punched him in the gut. He wasn't untying me...I thought he was doin' it on purpose. I was so mad at you all for makin' me fly. I just lost it man!" B.A. let his back slide down the plane until he was sitting on the ground, elbows resting on his knees and head in his hands. "I didn't know he was hurt." He looked up at Murdock and repeated," I didn't know he was hurt."

Murdock couldn't remember the last time he had seen B.A. this upset. He had this tough as nails exterior and talked a good game. On the inside, however, he was a big softy, especially when it came to the team. It infuriated him when somebody tried to hurt one of them; he was fiercely protective of his second family. Only, this time, he had been the one to hurt Face and he didn't know what to do about it.

Murdock could see that it was time for a little tough love. With Face down and he and Hannibal not at their physical best, they could not afford to have B.A. fall apart. He put his hand on the muscular shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. He wanted to let B.A. know that he wasn't angry at him, even though what he was about to say could make it seem that way.

"Listen B.A., we don't have time for a meltdown right now. We need to get Faceman out of this jungle…he needs us _now_. It doesn't matter how he got hurt, or who is responsible." Murdock stood up straight and using his best authoritative voice commanded, "I want you to get up off your Baracan-butt and get back to camp!" His false bravado gone, he took a giant step backward and prepared himself to flee from the larger man if need be.

B.A. looked up at Murdock in awe. He hated to admit it, but the crazy man was right. He stood up and started walking. Murdock fell into step next to him.

"Thanks fool," he said without looking over. "I needed that."

"That's what 'fools' are for,' Murdock beamed.

"However, if you ever use the term 'Baracan-butt' again, I'm gonna bust you in your Murdockan-mouth," he threatened with a chuckle.

"Duly noted," Murdock replied.


	6. Chapter 6

Title: Crash Into Strength

Summary: A plane crash leads to misunderstandings and greater understandings for the team.

Warnings: Descriptions of character injury

Note: Lia sent me the story idea (thanks Lia!) with the basic guidelines and I took it from there. It was a lot of fun to write this way!

Chapter 6

B.A. sat watch over Face. It would be light in a few hours and they wanted to get an early start. B.A. had insisted that Hannibal and Murdock get some rest; he had slept enough in the past few days…even if much had been drug-induced. Plus, he was hoping for some alone time with Face to apologize.

B.A. busied himself putting the finishing touches on the travois; he just hoped it would be strong enough to hold the injured man. The only materials he had to work with were branches, blankets and rope. He made the frame out of the strongest branches he could find. He then draped a blanket over the frame for Face to lie on and secured everything with the rope. Ironically, the very same rope that had been used to tie him up on the plane.

Face could hear B.A. working on something next to him; the rattling of gold was a dead giveaway. He kept his eyes closed, unsure of the big guy's mood. The last thing he remembered was B.A. stalking off. It wasn't his intention to make him feel bad, he was just trying to explain what had happened earlier. His leg was starting to throb and he tried to quietly shift to a more comfortable position. Unfortunately, the slight movement sent shooting pains up and down his leg and he couldn't help but groan.

"Faceman? You okay?" B.A. asked putting down the rope and kneeling down beside Face.

Face kept his eyes closed for a second trying to decide what to do. B.A. didn't sound angry...maybe he had calmed down. He knew he would have to talk with him sooner or later...might as well be sooner. He slowly opened his eyes to see a pair of brown concerned eyes looking back at him.

"You okay?" B.A. repeated.

"Yeah," he grimaced as he tried to shift position again with the same result.

"Your leg bothering ya?"

"Yeah," he admitted.

B.A. was worried; Face didn't like to admit that he was in pain. And one word answers from the usually chatty Face meant that he must really be suffering.

"Want me to take a look?" B.A. asked. At least that would give him something to do; make him feel as if he were helping.

"Um…Okay," Face agreed, feeling as awkward and uncomfortable as B.A. looked.

B.A. grabbed a flashlight and carefully unwrapped the bandage. He frowned down at what he saw. Though the bleeding had stopped, the thigh was badly swollen and looked a lot worse than he remembered.

Face gently probed the area surrounding the wound. "It's hot. Must be infected." He looked up at B.A. with fear in his eyes. "It's gonna need to be cleaned out...can you do it?"

B.A. looked back at Face with equally fearful eyes. As a rule, he tried to leave the doctoring to Hannibal. But, Hannibal needed his rest and Face's leg couldn't wait. He nodded his head yes and went to get the peroxide and some clean bandages.

"This is gonna hurt real bad, man. You sure you want me to do it?"

"No," he smiled weakly. "But it needs to be done. Go ahead...I'll be okay."

Face lay back and took a deep breath trying to prepare for what he knew was coming. B.A. held the infected leg still with one arm and started to pour with the other. He could feel Face's body stiffen as the liquid hit his flesh. He took a cloth and wiped away some of the blood and pus that had seeped out.

Face wanted to scream out in agony, but he held it in. Even in Nam when he was being tortured in the camps, he wouldn't let himself scream. He grabbed onto the blanket underneath him and squeezed with all his might.

B.A. could see Face struggling to maintain his composure. His usually tan complexion had turned ghostly white. "I'm almost done," he encouraged. "I'm just gonna clean it out one more time to be sure." He again poured the peroxide and waited for the bubbling to subside. He could feel Face trembling under his arms…or was that his own trembling he was feeling?

Face gasped when B.A. wiped off the peroxide and began to wrap the leg tightly. He caught a glimpse of B.A. and was struck by how anxious he looked. 'I wonder who this is hurting worse?' he thought. Another pain shot through his leg and he stifled a groan. 'Me…definitely me'. But still he wouldn't have traded places with B.A.; Face would rather suffer than have to watch one of his friends go through it.

B.A. sat back after securing the bandage, his hands still shaking slightly as he wiped some sweat off his brow. His heart was pounding so fiercely that he could actually see his gold moving on his chest. He vowed to wake up Hannibal or Murdock no matter what the circumstances next time; he didn't ever want to do that again.

B.A. stared at the ground unsure of what to do, while Face focused on the stars in the sky waiting for his pain to lessen to a tolerable level. B.A. didn't know what to say, and Face didn't trust himself to speak without his voice cracking yet. So they sat together in awkward silence; each man hoping the other would say something to break the ice.

After what felt like an eternity, Face couldn't take the tension anymore. He cleared his throat to get B.A.'s attention and said soberly, "You look like crap B.A."

B.A. lifted his head to meet Face's gaze and replied, "You ain't lookin' too hot yerself, Faceman."

Frowns turned into smiles and they erupted into laughter. Face wrapped his arms protectively around his stomach and whined, "Ow, don't make me laugh!", which only made them laugh more. As much as it hurt, it felt so good! When they were finally able to restrain themselves any hint of strain was gone.

"Listen Faceman, I owe you a big apology." B.A. got up and moved closer to Face who was lying on his back, a rolled up blanket under his head. He sat down cross-legged and continued, "I didn't know you was hurt man…"

"I know that B.A. We were just in a plane crash...nobody was thinking clearly," Face interrupted.

B.A. shook his head from side to side. "That ain't no excuse. You're my friend and I shouldn't have hit you."

"And I'm _your_ friend...I shouldn't have tied you up to begin with," Face tried to reason.

"Damn Faceman...would you just let me apologize without making excuses for me," B.A. exclaimed exasperated. "Look, I don't like being knocked out, but, I understand that you guys have to do it. Still pisses me off, but I get it."

Face remained silent and listened. He wasn't used to the big guy apologizing to him and it made him strangely uneasy.

"I was angry, but it don't justify me bustin' your ribs."

"You can't take all the credit for that...the plane cracked them first. You're not that tough," Face joked.

B.A. smiled back. "You have a hard time accepting apologies, don't you?"

"Haven't had a whole lot of practice," Face shrugged. "Orphans aren't usually cared about enough to get apologies from many people."

B.A. patted Face on his good leg. "You ain't no orphan anymore. Don't forget about your two crazy brothers and our insane dad."

Face groaned as they started laughing again.

"Speaking of our family," B.A. gasped out through his laughter as Hannibal and Murdock came walking over.

Hannibal looked at the two hysterical men and said to Murdock, "Well, they say that laughter is the best medicine."

"Just what is so funny?" Murdock asked.

"You had to be there," Face answered, wincing at the laughter-induced abdominal pain.

"How're you feeling Face?" Hannibal asked. "You fit to travel?"

"I don't know how fit I am, but I can travel. My head feels better…I'm not as dizzy."

"And what about the rest of you?" Murdock probed.

Before Face had a chance to respond with his typical "fine", B.A. jumped in. "Leg's infected. I cleaned it out, but we need to keep an eye on it."

Hannibal put his hand on Face's forehead. "You feel warm, but not too bad. Okay men…let's pack up and head out of here." If they only knew exactly where "here" was.


	7. Chapter 7

Title: Crash Into Strength

Summary: A plane crash leads to misunderstandings and greater understandings for the team.

Warnings: Descriptions of character injury

Note: Lia sent me the story idea (thanks Lia!) with the basic guidelines and I took it from there. It was a lot of fun to write this way!

Chapter 7

Hannibal took the lead; B.A. pulled Face who was strapped tightly onto the travois; and Murdock was in the rear.

The three walking team members were making fairly good progress, while Face lay in pure agony. Every little bump or depression the travois would encounter sent shooting pains through his leg and ribs. The constant vibration from being dragged on the ground had renewed his headache to its original intensity. He kept his mouth shut not wanting to slow them down. The sooner they got out of here, the sooner he could get some help…and hopefully some painkillers!

Every couple of hours they would stop for a break and Face would get a few minutes of relief. But all too soon, they would start up again. By mid-afternoon, Face was hurting so bad that he wanted to tell them to leave him behind. Knowing full well that this was not an option his friends would even consider, he gritted his teeth and said nothing.

By late afternoon, B.A. had noticed the travois felt funny…like it was shaking. He glanced back at Face and saw that the injured man had his eyes shut tight, looked awfully pale, and was trembling with pain. He placed the handles down and dropped to his knees beside Face.

"Hannibal!" he yelled out. "Faceman's in trouble."

Hannibal and Murdock came running over as Face opened up his eyes. "I…I'm okay…just hurts a bit."

"He's burning up, man," B.A. said.

"Better check out the leg again. Murdock grab the first aid kit," Hannibal instructed.

"Don't want to slow you down…I'm okay," Face whispered weakly.

Hannibal patted him on the shoulder reassuringly. "You're not slowing us down, Lieutenant. It's getting late anyway…maybe we should set up camp here for the night." He noticed a slight sigh of relief from the younger man when he said that.

Hannibal took a look at Face's thigh and felt real fear for the first time in a few years. It was severely swollen and the area surrounding the wound was bright red in color. Nobody said a word; they didn't have to. Hannibal's face said it all.

"It's bad, isn't it?" Face asked in a shaky voice. If Hannibal was scared, that meant he should be terrified. Hannibal just nodded his head; B.A. and Murdock looked away.

Ironically, it was their fear that seemed to give him some strength. "You have to drain it, Colonel."

Again Hannibal just nodded his head; but they all remained motionless.

"C'mon guys…don't freak out on me now," he pleaded. "You're the strong ones…I'm just the extremely good looking fugitive of the bunch." He meant it as a joke, but deep down he kind of believed it…and thought they might too. The statement was enough to set them in motion.

Hannibal took out his Swiss Army knife and a pair of tweezers and got to work sterilizing them with his lighter while Murdock started a fire and boiled some water in a small pot. The first order of business would be to soak the wound in hot water. B.A. grabbed some clean cloths and dropped them into the boiling pot. He pulled them out with a stick and allowed them to cool just enough so they wouldn't burn Face.

"You ready Face?" Hannibal asked, his stomach twisted in knots. Face nodded, then closed his eyes and grabbed onto the sides of the travois. Face's head jerked back as Hannibal placed the hot cloth on his wound. Hannibal could see the veins popping out in his forearms and the whiteness of his knuckles as he squeezed the branches while trying to ride out the pain. Gradually the heat seemed to lessen and his grip loosened, signaling that it was time.

Without a word, B.A. sat behind Face and held his shoulders. Murdock held Face's uninjured leg down with his good arm. Hannibal locked eyes with Face and could see the trust radiating out from within them. He picked up the knife, took one deep breath and then slowly began to cut. Face gasped at the sharpness of the blade. He wanted to stay still for the colonel, but his body began to jerk involuntarily. He could feel B.A. and Murdock struggling to hold him down.

Hannibal took the tweezers and held the wound open as he wiped at the freely seeping pus. Based on how bad the infection looked, he knew he would have to dig deeper to get it all out. Looking down at his patient, he wondered how much more of this he could take.

Face was panting as tears slid out of the corners of his eyes. He saw Hannibal reach for the knife again and he tried to brace himself. This time as the blade sliced into his thigh, the severity of the pain was too great. He moaned as his eyes rolled back into his head and he felt no more.

B.A. and Murdock could feel Face's body relax as he lost consciousness. They looked up at each other with relief reading all over their faces. Hannibal, too, was grateful that Face didn't have to suffer anymore as he continued to probe the wound. Finally, he was satisfied that he had done all that he could. He covered the thigh with a new dressing and prayed that what he had done would be enough until they reached civilization.

The night crawled by at a snail's pace. Face's fever spiked to a dangerously high degree. While they knew that this meant his body was fighting the infection, it was still frightening to witness. The teammates took turns sitting with the incoherent con-man as he twisted and turned, seemingly trapped inside his feverish dreams. One minute he appeared to be reliving Vietnam and the next he would be a little boy in the orphanage; it was heartbreaking to watch.

Around dusk, Face's breathing seemed to even out and his body became still. Hannibal pulled off one of his black gloves and felt his forehead. 'Thank God', he thought. His temperature was still elevated, but he wasn't nearly as hot as before. Hannibal walked over to where Murdock and B.A. were sitting a few feet away. None of the men had really been able to get much sleep; they were still shaken up by the previous night's events. Finally they gave up trying and decided to start planning their next move.

Murdock held out a banana and asked, "How's he doing, Colonel?"

"His fever is down and he seems to be sleeping peacefully," Hannibal replied accepting the banana with a smile. He wasn't hungry, but he needed to keep up his strength.

They finished breakfast and were packing up their gear when Murdock froze in place and said, "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Hannibal asked.

"Listen," Murdock said looking up at the sky.

"I don't hear nothin', fool…you probably just hearin' them voices in your head again," B.A. teased.

"No, it's a chopper. We pilots have special radar…we can hear an aircraft coming from miles away." Murdock pulled a pair of binoculars out of his pack and scanned the sky with them. "Uh-oh," he said.

Hannibal groaned. "Murdock, the last time you said 'uh-oh' was right before the plane crashed."

"Well, it's a chopper all right. But 'uh-oh' because there is a big old U.S. Army painted on the side of it."

"B.A. grabbed the glasses and took a look. "Damn! How'd they find us here?"

"Well, Face did scam that last plane from a military base, right?" Hannibal asked, and the other two nodded. "It must have had some sort of tracking device in it."

"What we gonna do now, Hannibal?" B.A. asked.

"We're going to help them find us, of course?" Hannibal said lighting up a cigar.

"Oh no…he's on the jazz man…he's on the jazz," B.A. grumbled.

Hannibal's blue eyes were twinkling. He put his arms around B.A. and Murdock's shoulders and started guiding them toward Face. "Here's the plan…and we don't have much time."


	8. Chapter 8

Title: Crash Into Strength

Summary: A plane crash leads to misunderstandings and greater understandings for the team.

Warnings: Descriptions of character injury

Note: Lia sent me the story idea (thanks Lia!) with the basic guidelines and I took it from there. It was a lot of fun to write this way!

Chapter 8

Face fired the flare gun and then lay there waiting to be discovered. When Hannibal told him that his part was to "stay put and act like sick man" he thought, 'No acting required'. Seeing that he was too weak to even sit up at this point, there wasn't much else he could do but be the bait.

Hannibal, B.A. and Murdock grabbed some guns and loaded up with ammo. They spread out and got out of site.

Sure enough, it wasn't long before they could hear the helicopter coming closer. Murdock was to track it down and then standby and get it ready for takeoff. He hid behind some trees and watched as four very serious looking soldiers got off.

"This just keeps getting better and better," Murdock said to himself as he noted that the leader of the pack was none other than Colonel Decker. "Hannibal is gonna love this," he said. He waited until they were out of site and then made his move. His part had been easy so far; the hard part would be waiting to see if the others would be as lucky.

Decker spotted a lone figure lying on the ground. He signaled to his men to draw their weapons and guard the area. He had been after the A-team for too long; he had come to expect the unexpected. As he came in closer, he recognized the apparently injured man.

"Peck," he said as he loomed over Face.

"Decker," Face replied weakly.

Decker could see that the lieutenant was in bad shape. He was pale and sweating profusely. "Where are Smith and Baracus?"

"They went for help," Face said while watching Decker's face to try and gauge if he was buying it.

"You mean, they just left you here…alone?" Decker looked skeptical. The A-team would never leave a man behind.

'Damn,' Face thought, 'he isn't going for it.' He was going to have to improvise. But he was finding it hard enough to stay awake, let alone think on his feet. "B.A. went…went for help. Hannibal went back…back to the plane for more sup…supplies," he stuttered. Face's breathing was becoming increasingly labored from talking. He was beginning to feel lightheaded again, but knew he couldn't pass out; he had to keep Decker distracted.

"How bad you hurt, Peck?" Decker asked holstering his weapon and crouching down to get a closer look.

"I was feelin' better until you showed up." Face's attempted sarcasm and accompanying smile was disrupted by a sudden coughing fit. He struggled to catch his breath as each cough was agonizing to his battered ribs. He had wanted to distract Decker, but this wasn't exactly the way he would have chosen to go about it.

Decker didn't know how to react. Peck was his adversary, but he didn't like to see the man suffering. He yelled out to his men, "Jones, grab the med kit. Atkins, bring me a canteen with water."

Face finally stopped coughing as he was being ministered to. 'C'mon, where _are_ you guys?' he thought. 'if you're going to make a move, this would be the time'.

Hannibal motioned for B.A. to get ready. Decker and two of his men were busy tending to Face, leaving just one armed man keeping watch. "Sloppy, Decker," Hannibal said to himself as he crept closer to the clearing. Looking over at B.A., he held up his palm signaling the sergeant to wait for his signal. Once the guard looked the other way he pointed at B.A. and mouthed the word "now".

B.A. rushed the guard from behind and had him pinned to the ground before he knew what hit him. Meanwhile, Hannibal jumped out in front of Decker and crew who were still knelt down beside a barely conscious Face.

Pointing his machine gun at the stunned group he said, "Nice of you to join the party, Decker."

"Smith!" Decker sneered. "Dammit...I should have known!"

"Yeah, you should have," Hannibal smiled, taunting the seething man. "I must say I'm kind of disappointed in you Rod." Then he removed the smile and ordered, "Now place your weapons on the ground, put your hands on your heads and move away from my lieutenant." Keeping his eyes focused on his captives, he called out, "B.A., tie these guys up...we have a flight to catch."

"You'll never get away with this," Decker threatened.

Hannibal pulled out a cigar, bit the end off and spit it off to the side. "Never say never, Decker. It's so negative." He began walking away, but turned around and added, "Oh, and don't worry. We'll send somebody back for you," he paused, "eventually."

Hannibal went over to check on Face. "See, what did I tell ya, kid?

Face groaned, but smiled up at the colonel, "You told me it would be a piece of cake."

Hannibal smiled back, "I love it when a plan comes together!"

(One chapter to go…)


	9. Chapter 9

Title: Crash Into Strength

Summary: A plane crash leads to misunderstandings and greater understandings for the team.

Warnings: Descriptions of character injury

Note: Lia sent me the story idea (thanks Lia!) with the basic guidelines and I took it from there. It was a lot of fun to write this way!

Chapter 9

Epilogue

Face limped slowly to the van. It had been a little over 3 weeks since their return to Los Angeles. He was recovering about as well as could be expected, but wouldn't be running any races in the near future. He carefully boosted himself up into the front passenger seat, wincing as he dragged his healing leg behind him.

"Thanks for picking me up, B.A.," Face said. He wouldn't be allowed to drive himself for at least another couple of weeks. His thigh had sustained some muscle damage and he was undergoing painful physical therapy sessions 4 days a week.

"No problem, man." B.A. still felt guilty about all that transpired on the last mission...he was happy to help Face in any way. He even got on the helicopter in Mexico without saying a word. Truthfully, he was too worried about Face at the time to even think about his own fears.

"How'd it go? What'd the doc say?"

"It went well, I think. I got to ride the bike for a bit," Face replied. He left out how it hurt so much that it brought tears to his eyes. That and how when he got off the bike his leg gave out and he fell to the floor in an embarrassed heap. He could tell that B.A. was feeling bad enough without him adding to things. "I think my therapist is happy with my progress," Face grinned mischievously. "I can confirm that with her when we have dinner together tonight."

"That's great man...real great," B.A. smiled back. They rode in silence a few moments before he said, "Something's been botherin' me Faceman...something you said in Mexico."

"I'm sure I said a lot of wild things in Mexico...I was half out of my head most of the time."

"Nah...you was with it when you said this. You said that we were strong and you were just good lookin'. Did you really mean that?"

Face wasn't sure this was a discussion he wanted to have, so he tried to brush it off by joking, "I wasn't implying that you are ugly, if that's what you're getting at...I don't have a death wish."

B.A. wasn't ready to let it drop. "You know that isn't true, right?"

Again Face tried to dodge the subject. "So now are you saying that I'm _not_ good looking?"

"C'mon man...I'm serious. You're one of the strongest dudes I know."

Face scoffed, "Yeah, right." He pointed to his face and said, "You guys gave me the name "Face" because of this."

B.A. pulled over to the side of the road abruptly and shut off the engine. "You really _do_ believe that, don't you?" He shook his head and sighed.

Now Face was really getting uncomfortable. "Listen B.A., it is what it is...it's not like I'm upset about it. I'm the scam artist of the group...I understand that my looks are the reason I'm valuable to the team." He laughed stiffly, "Geez, does that make me sound conceited!" He was aware that most people would consider him handsome, however he never saw himself that way. He had decided that this stemmed from his childhood; if he was so good looking, why didn't anybody want to adopt him?

"You crazier than that fool Murdock!" B.A. grunted.

"Think about it B.A. Hannibal is the colonel..he's the man with the plans. Murdock is our pilot; without him we wouldn't be able to get around..."

B.A. cut him off, "...and that would be just fine with me."

Face continued, "and you are the muscle and our mechanical genius." He looked down at his hands and sighed. "I mean, sure I get you guys stuff, but all that means is that I'm good at scamming and lying." He looked up at B.A. with sad eyes and asked, "where's the strength in that?"

Now it was B.A.'s turn to feel uncomfortable. He wasn't good at telling people what he really felt about them...unless he didn't like them. At a loss for what to say, he started the van up and pulled back onto the road. Driving helped him to think.

"Faceman, you want to know what I really think of you."

"Um...I'm not so sure," Face answered in a soft voice.

"Well, I'm gonna tell ya anyway...and don't go interrupting me like you always do." B.A. paused, glancing over at Face who nodded his agreement. "I already told you that I think you are one of the strongest men I know...and I meant it. After the childhood you had, it's amazing that you can still function! I see kids all the time at the center who haven't had it near as bad as you did, and they wind up twice as messed up."

Face's hands started to shake and the van suddenly felt a lot warmer. "B.A., please stop," he pleaded meekly.

"Sorry, I think this is something you need to hear," B.A. said shaking his head 'no'. And, in Nam you had it worse than any of us in the camps. You was messed with pretty bad, but you didn't let it break you. God, you were still just a kid...hell, you still are."

Face rolled down the window; he needed some air desperately.

"You are way more than just a "face", Faceman. You provide for us; you make sure we have what we need. You're a good person and a good friend...if you wasn't, we wouldn't still be on the run with you."

B.A. took his right hand off the wheel and squeezed Face on the shoulder. "You're strong because you haven't let your past dictate your future."

Face's eyes were moist; he didn't know that B.A. really thought that highly of him. He coughed in an effort to hide his emotions. "I...um...I don't know what to say."

"Don't need to say nothin'...just telling the truth."

"Thanks B.A."

"You're welcome. Just don't go tellin' Murdock about our little talk...I don't want to have to tell crazy man what I really think about him." Both men shared a chuckle over the thought of that conversation.

"It'll be our little secret," Face grinned. "But now that I know how strong I am, can I still call you to help me out during a fight?"

"Anytime man...anytime!"

3 months later

Face ducked as a fist came speeding toward his head. Standing back up he held up a hand to his assailant and said, "I'll be with you in a minute...B.A.!"

The End


End file.
